A Night in Florence
by crowskisses
Summary: They stared at each other in silence, none of them really wanting to be there, but all unwilling to leave.  When you saw someone you knew halfway across the world you took a few minutes to catch up.


Summary: One shot. Set between _The Fury _and _Dark Reunion_. Alaric has a layover in Florence.

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: Nothing is owned.

A/N:I was missing Italy and thought of Florence and all the American bars that seemed so out of place. Just for kicks.

A Night in Florence

Alaric threw himself into the bar stool, hating flight delays more than ever. The Italian bartender came over and Alaric practically barked at him, "Crown and coke, por favore."

He disappeared and Alaric sighed, forcing calm into his system. It was not the bartender's fault an earthquake had diverted his plane to Florence, and it was not his fault Alaric was stuck here at least tonight.

"Alaric?" The surprised voice came from behind.

Alaric turned, meeting black hair and oak green eyes with bags underneath. "Stefan?"

Stefan nodded, confusion coloring his english. "What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

Alaric turned to the bartender, fumbling for money with a soft curse, he hadn't bothered to change currencies. A black voice, "Put it on the Salvatore tab."

"Gratzie mille." Alaric turned to see the other brother.

Stefan motioned to the blonde girl left alone on the dance floor, as if this was a repeated argument. "What about her?"

Damon took in his brother in a measured glance, "I'm done with her." He turned to Alaric, who was still staring at the striking blonde girl. "Why are you here?"

Alaric took a sip of his drink, "Flight delay." Another sip. "I'm supposed to be in the Ukraine."

This seemed to satisfy Damon, who turned to the bartender. "A bottle of black magic, at my booth."

Alaric picked up his crown and coke and followed the two to a private alcove, wondering what the hell black magic was and why on earth was Damon using english. They settled in and black magic appeared to be a wine. Alaric studied Stefan with a touch of pity. Elena's death had clearly taken a heavy toll. He looked gaunt, broken and defeated. Damon, on the other hand, showed no outer signs of distress.

They stared at each other in silence, none of them really wanting to be there, but all unwilling to leave. When you saw someone you knew halfway across the world you took a few minutes to catch up. That was simply how things worked. Stefan broke the silence first, "How is Meredith?"

"She's holding together, " Alaric answered, "Ready for school to be done."

Stefan nodded and the silence returned, the three lost in their thoughts. Stefan about Elena, Alaric about Meredith and Damon... "What about the little bird?"

Stefan and Alaric both stared blankly back in surprise and Damon sighed, "Bonnie? The psychic."

Alaric floundered, truth be told he and Meredith didn't dwell on Bonnie's well being when they got to talk. "She's doing fine, I think." Another flounder under those dark eyes, "Still upset obviously. Meredith says people avoid them in school."

"Damon..." Stefan started.

His brother ignored him, "I'm surprised she's still sane." Damon paused, "Or human. She'd make a nice toy for a vampire."

Alaric shifted in his seat, uncomfortable, recalling what Meredith had been saying about Bonnie. He finished his crown and coke, watching as Stefan poured him a glass of wine. It came pouring out. "I'm not sure she is...Meredith mentioned she has nightmares about...about Elena." Another pause, he hated betraying confidences that weren't his to keep. "Meredith hears it when Bonnie sleeps over."

A terrible hope lit up Stefan's gaunt face, but Damon was making a dismissive noise. "The girl has nightmares about trees." He looked at his brother, the velvet voice hardening enough to kill any hope. "She's just a silly child with an overactive imagination."

Alaric took a long sip of his black magic, feeling it hit his system instantaneously. He felt oddly protective of little Bonnie, he had when she was just a student and now she reminded him of a little sister. "How would you know what she has nightmares about?"

Damon took his own sip, "She's a loud screamer."

Alaric decided to ignore it. It was not something he wanted to have to talk to Meredith about. "How have you two been holding up?"

Stefan glanced at Damon, who was staring at the side of the booth. Alaric shifted, he could feel the tension between the two. Stefan sighed, "Fine." He tried to cover the obvious lie, "Its nice to be home."

"It would be nicer to be home alone." The black eyes were surveying the crowd again.

Alaric shifted uncomfortably, he knew about the promise Stefan had made. So he watched the crowd too, wondering why the Salvatores were in such an American bar. Hell, why he was in such an American bar. Usually, he tried to blend in as much as possible when he traveled. He took another sip, holding it up, "What is this?"

Stefan answered, still deflated. "The only wine most vampires will drink."

Alaric opened and shut his mouth repeatedly. He looked around noticing all of the inhumanely beautiful people. He'd heard whispers of places like this before. "Is this...is this a hunting ground?"

"Si. Its an easy place for locales to get a taste of the exotic." The black eyes turned to him, "Convenient for those who can't or won't travel."

Alaric swallowed compulsively, he glanced at the young women and looked away just as quickly. That girl had vaguely reminded him of Meredith.. Instead he found Stefan's tired green eyes. Stefan gave him a wan smile, "You wanted paranormal...here it is."

Not like this, not ever like this. Alaric wanted to scream it, but he didn't. Damon snorted from his other side, "He wanted the sweet supernatural. The safe little psychics with premonitions and bad dreams. Not the darkness that we are."

Alaric didn't dispute it, instead draining his glass. Maybe tonight he would be his own subject, get himself bit by a vampire to see what it was like. With black magic in his system the Ukraine could wait, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

A low chuckle to one of his sides, uncomfortable shifting on his other. He looked towards the darker part of the booth, the black eyes shining with amusement. "I don't bite men, but I could arrange for a lady of quality to spend some time with you."

Stefan sighed from his other side, "No, Damon. Alaric, look at me."

Alaric turned, his eyes catching the tired green ones. The pupils in the green swelled and contracted, "You will finish your drink and go to your hotel. You will wake up and get on your plane and forget that you ever saw Florence."

Alaric shook his head, trying to shake out the sudden fuzz that seemed to fill it. Damon's voice was next to him, "A vampire hunter who _still _doesn't use vervain..."

Stefan sighed, "You compelled him to forget it existed."

"Alaric." Alaric turned towards the velvet voice, meeting black eyes. "You will ignore Stefan's commands. You will finish your drink and do whatever you want tonight."

"Damon..."

Damon was the one to sigh this time, "Fine." He reached out and turned the sandy professor's chin back to him, "Then you will forget you were ever in Florence."

…...

Alaric shook his head on the plane the next morning, wondering why he had such a headache from a night in the airport. He surely hadn't had that many drinks at the bar. With a sigh he opened his journal, he stared at it in confusion. Who had ripped the pages out?

He flipped back; notes about his excitement for the new trip, how he missed Meredith but someone seemed to have ripped out everything else concerning Fell's Church. In a panic he rifled through his bag, finding his second journal, his purely scientific one. It seemed whole and unmolested. He opened to the last entry, dated a few hours ago. He read the title in confusion.

_Florence, Italy. A personal account of blood donation to a vampire. _

When had he been to Florence?

Fin.


End file.
